


The Last of the English Roses

by GabrielVincent



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-22
Updated: 2011-06-22
Packaged: 2017-10-20 15:48:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/214390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GabrielVincent/pseuds/GabrielVincent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the exciting stuff happens at night</p><p>-OR-</p><p>the one fueled by pondering how Charles might have ended up wearing a turtleneck jumper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last of the English Roses

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from a song by Pete (sorry, Peter, if you like) Doherty- which might lead you to believe this is all serious and feel-y. Not really. It was supposed to be a lot shorter and more about the ending but I guess I kind of get carried away with characters like this because I want to emphasise how IN LOVE they are so that explains the boring parts. This started on tumblr- there was a picture of James McAvoy wearing a turtleneck jumper and a leather jacket and my first thought was: Erik-"Why are you wearing my clothes?" Charles-"I can take them off if you like."
> 
> That doesn't happen here, but he does end up wearing the jumper. So. It's kind of cracky I guess. Plus bonus Alex.

It began late one evening as Charles began removing his shirt to get ready for bed. He had reached the fourth button down when he froze, feeling someone outside his door. It was probably just one of the kids unable to sleep, he dismissed, continuing and laughing at himself for being so paranoid. He went to the dresser to fetch something to sleep in when the door had clicked open and he found himself diving onto the bed in some strange impulse to cover up. "Erik! Jesus christ, you can't just barge in like that- what are you doing?"

"All of the locks in this house are so boring. Get them replaced with something non-metal one day. I couldn't sleep." Erik strode over to the bed, apparently oblivious to Charles's embarrassment, and sat down, legs crossed in front of him with a sigh towards the tapestry on the wall. "It's funny, isn't it? All these exhausting days- I feel like I should be tired, but no, just restless. I feel a bit...off. So I thought I'd come where conversation might be welcome. But I can leave if you like."

"Right," said Charles, still distinctly uncomfortable and wishing desperately he could will his pyjama top towards him to avoid walking over to the dresser in only his underwear, "Well, if you go out for a second so I can get dressed, we can play chess or something. Whatever you like. Just...I need to get my shirt."

Erik turned to stare at him, then began to laugh- he looked absurd with his blanket clutched against his chest like that.

"Whatever I like, hmm?" he mused quietly. "How about you don't get your shirt and I stay here?"

"Erik. _Erik_ , what are you- don't _make me_ read your thoughts, Erik. Just...just let me-"

"Do you really need to read my thoughts, Charles?" Erik grinned, pretty and predatory all at once and turned fully, advancing towards him. Charles tried to push himself even further back towards the headboard, pulling the blanket further up towards his chin, his knuckles white from how hard he gripped it.

By now, Erik was so close he could hear his uneven breathing, see something other than the calm composure that was usually permanently residential in Charles's eyes, and it nearly made him think twice- before Charles's mouth fell slightly open, and he could do nothing but reach in and kiss him. "Oh..."

Erik smiled, prising his hands away from the sheet and it fell, exposing Charles's pale chest, skin as soft as Erik had expected- _untouched, English, delicate_ \- he stroked with one finger, feeling the difference in his own, hands calloused and rough from life and experience, harsh weather and harsher living conditions- he relished how unblemished Charles really was, kissing his shoulder lightly when he leaned forwards into Erik's hands. "You're pefect, did you know that?"

"...No, I'm not. But I'll let you say it anyway."

"Why would you want to hide...this..." Erik's hands swept accross from collarbone to hipbone, Charles shivering underneath him.

"Public schoolboy sensibilities, I presume," Charles said quietly, a smile on his face as he watched Erik admire him.

"Of course. Well, perhaps I'm grateful. It all seems a lot more rewarding when you aren't just asking for it," At that, Charles smiled weakly.

"I'm afraid I may have to disappoint you, my friend, as I don't see myself remaining so coy and controlled for much longer..."

"And somehow I don't see myself feeling disappointed." Erik wrapped his arms around Charles's neck as he kissed him, biting slightly at his lips with sharp teeth whilst stroking patterns at the top of his spine with long fingers. Erik kicked away the offending blanket as they kissed and adored the way Charles immediately moved himself closer with his hips, wrapping legs arouns Erik's back until he was on his lap, as close as they could possibly be. Charles's hands started to stroke at Erik's waist and he felt hands fiddling with the bottom of his turtleneck jumper. Charles pulled away.

"Would you mind terribly if I-"

Erik laughed, leaning back to let him pull off his top, then holding his breath as he watched Charles's eyes widen at the sight of his chest. He ran soft hands down Erik's torso, appreciating every inch of the toned, slightly scarred skin -of course, he'd never seen Erik without clothes before, yet he knew what to expect- and somehow, he never expected this. He could have stared forever, learning every centimetre of Erik for himself, to store in a quiet mental corner he'd never give away, but he was interrupted with an unintentional gasp as Erik's hands landed on his hips, touching there then moving to the inside of his thighs, tracing paths up and down with a very delicate, teasing touch. Erik took his momentary distraction as an opportunity to lean back in and kiss his chest once again, sometimes biting, because Charles responded well to that, sometimes just lightly pressing his lips there. He moved to his neck, getting braver as Charles's own movements became more bold, and he bit at Charles's pale throat, sucking the blood to the surface, leaving something that might possibly be visible above those demure shirt collars of his. He smiled to himself as Charles barely registered, his own hands tentatively pressing past the waistband of Erik's trousers. He made a quiet noise as Erik released his neck, drawing his hands away from where they'd been teasing Charles to remove his own trousers and resume his position, Charles once again on his lap, and very little between them.

"So Charles, those public schoolboy sensibilities of yours- do they direct your reactions to things such as this?" Erik's tone was outrageously conversational as he thrust a hand down to grasp Charles's cock. "Because I've heard stories about public schoolboys in England. And you're quite..." he brought his other hand up to caresss the blush that crept up Charles's neck, "...you're quite the English rose," he laughed softly, breath tickling at a gasping mouth.

"Those- ahem- those _stories_ will probably have to wait for another time, I'm afraid," he choked, the words coming out suddenly hoarse and stuttered. The contact, the distraction, the suddennes of this happening was making it difficult to maintain control over what his mind was doing and as a result, he appeared to be recieving, entirely unintentionally, fast-flying images of himself underneath the man who was slowly pushing him backwards to lie on the bed, laboured sighs of Erik's name and the odd sensation of how it would feel to be holding _him._ Charles, who had never been touched this way. Who had never been worshipped the way Erik seemed to- lingering kisses on anywhere he could reach, quiet whispers of appreciation even when Erik's movements were so sordid- Charles who had never quite _let go_ with anyone like this before because _this_ is what would happen, this overflow of thought and then they'd run away in fear but Erik _wouldn't,_ because Erik was right and Erik was perfect and Erik was the same and Erik was _his._

"I can hear you, you know," Erik whispered suddenly, his words clear over the symphony of blurred sounds.

"Oh...oh, I'm sorry-"

"There is honestly no need to apologise. In fact, there is rarely need for you to apologise for anything at all," he responded, looking straight into blue eyes that blinked fast when he held his gaze.

"Why can you _talk_ so well- _still..._ " Charles complained at the alarming disparity between their abilities to form sentences. He then received a particularly interesting image (slightly stronger, he presumed Erik must have really focussed on projecting it- impressive, cruel, delicious) and whimpered as Erik's mouth left his neck, finding itself where his hand had been, licking at Charles almost tentatively before smiling, and making a valiant attempt to swallow him whole.

 _I'm not talking,_ Erik thought, _but I can certainly still form sentences._ Charles was impressed at how he could hear the smile in his voice.

 _You dirty bugger,_ he replied, _but I'm so impressed by how quickly you mastered that._

 _Maybe blowjobs are all it takes to teach anyone anything,_ came the response, and Charles threw his head back, clenching his fists in the sheets and trying desperately not to kick his legs. _Now even your thoughts are incoherent. Fascinating._

At that point, Erik pulled off, looking around the room ponderingly, still stupidly serene, countered by his movements (which included tracing lines dangerously low underneath Charles, apparently absent-mindedly sliding fingers fleetingly over his entrance) until his eyes came to rest on the old wooden nightstand.

"Oh _Charles,_ I bet you use that for your lips, don't you?" he grinned, Charles followed his gaze to the jar of Vaseline.

"Well what else would you- - _oh._ "

Erik hadn't thought Charles could look anymore awkward and flustered, _such an unusual state for you, my dear, calm, controlled friend,_ but it seemed that it was still possible. As he began to carefully, ever so carefully work him open, however, the nervous want for dignity or something disappeared in lieu of fluttering eyelids and sounds devastated of meaning beyond the overwhelming _more_ that was being fired into Erik's head. When Erik finally lowered down into him, it was because he couldn't take the constant barrage of _I couldn't want you more, you're perfect, I need you, need the feeling of you inside-_ that appeared to be beyond Charles's severely compromised control. The images that came with it were what made him move.

 _You feel incredible._

 _You make me feel incredible._

 _I would say I want this to last forever but I really don't think that's likely at this rate._

 _Speak for yourself, darling, I could keep this up-_

Erik reached down to touch him more.

 _Could you really?_

 _You don't need to know the answer to that._

 _No, because I can feel it._

 _Erik- I can feel...how_ you _feel. Right now. Are you...?_

 _Yes, I do believe I am._

 _That's astounding, if we could somehow harness that ability, note down that-_

Erik drove into him harder and leant down to bite his neck.

 _Please stop thinking about science while I'm fucking you._

 _Okayyesokay_

 _Good boy..._

 _Oh jesus christ I'm close._

 _Says the man who claimed he could go for hours._

 _Stop twisting my words._

 _Not twisting, misinterpreting. What if I told you I only ever get abstract approximations of what you're thinking?_

 _I'd say that's bollocks because--_

 _Well. Quite._

Charles came when Erik stroked at his cock whilst sucking at the bitemark he'd just left on his neck. Erik followed when Charles wrapped his legs around Erik's waist, pinning him as close as he could possibly be and accidentally-on-purpose projecting the feeling of his orgasm.

Erik collapsed on top of Charles about a minute later, pulling out to be shoved to Charles's left side where he proceeded to wrap his arms around Erik, who had struggled to process that chain of events coherently.

"You are...indredibly beautiful, Erik," he said, pulling himself closer to Erik's chest who hadn't quite gotten used to the feeling of being held onto so tightly afterwards.

"Now you _know_ I know you say that to all the girls."

"Yes but I don't _mean_ it like I mean it now."

"How do you mean it now? They are... _very_ beautiful, some of them."

"I mean it like that was the most incredible shag of my life and I quite possibly may love you."

 _Read as: I love you,_ he thought, tentatively.

"I like the way your voice speeds up when you say anything dirty. You get all breathless. It's so... _Oxford._ "

 _Do you really? Because that could work for me,_ thought Erik, hurriedly, hoping he hadn't imagined that last part.

"Shut up. You're just shameless."

 _I don't dive into oceans that might kill me for_ anyone, _you know._

 _I don't share every thought I've ever had with_ anyone. _I mean, if I had the choice._

Charles leant in and kissed him, slowly, to gather in every detail he'd missed the first time. Erik broke away, smiling terrifyingly wide.

"What?"

"Your neck. It's beautiful."

"Er...thank you, I suppose?"

"You're welcome," he grinned, kissing Charles again quickly before getting up and disappearing into the bathroom.

"You just stay there, okay?" he called out, before returning with a damp cloth. He crawled back into bed and gently cleaned them both before throwing it into the general direction of the doorway. He heaved a sigh. "Charles, if I have to go back to my room I'll have to find my clothes. I'm very tired. Do you mind if I stay?"

"You were _contemplating leaving?_ "

 _I don't do this. This doesn't happen to me. People don't_ love _me, Charles._

"I wouldn't have let you leave. I know what I said about you being free to do what you like but this isn't really an option."

"Perfect," Erik purred, allowing himself to be curled around despite the heat and strangeness of the situation. Charles fell asleep with both arms around his waist, a madly possessive gesture that Erik hated to admit he enjoyed.

\--------

Charles was up first. He always woke up early, it had been drummed into him as a child and it simply never left. Erik was fast asleep beside him and Charles couldn't help but spend a few minutes admiring the scene, the way he could have been smiling, marvelling at the peacefulnes on the face of someone so volatile. He stretched and got out of bed, going to the bathroom to get his dressing gown. He gasped when he caught sight of his reflection- his neck now displayed four purple circles, all similar in shape and size- the size of Erik's mouth. He closed his eyes. The children. The children would notice. He could always pass it off as something else...what? Something went wrong in a training session. He accidentally fell into someone's mouth. He was experimenting with Hank. That...sounded wrong. He was helping an experiment and something went wrong and- he'd have to find a way to cover up. He went back into his room and searched.

"Morning, sunshine!" dazzled Raven as he walked sleepily into the kitchen.

"Hello," he muttered, looking around to see several pairs of eyes on him.

"I see Mr Lehnsherr's had quite an effect on you, sir," said Hank, staring right at his neck.

"What? What do you mean?" Charles exclaimed loudly.

"You've started wearing turtleneck jumpers, that's all, I wasn't trying to-" Hank looked distinctly worried and Charles marvelled at how dreadful he was at handling awkward situations. He'd never had to handle awkward situations. Well. Certainly not _this_ kind of awkward.

"Oh, oh yes, sorry, Hank, I didn't mean to...yes. Sorry." He turned away to fill the kettle. _Excellent. Really, really excellent. I'm sure no-one suspected a thing._

"Is that the kettle on, Charles?" came a voice from the doorway. Charles nearly dropped the thing when he turned to see Erik, bare-chested, flexing his arms behind his back walk nonchalantly into the kitchen. "Hmm. Nice top," he said, ignoring the stares that were now following him around the kitchen. "Looks familiar." He was standing too close. Charles felt the back of his neck growing hot as Erik practically breathed on it in an elaborate and entirely unecessary manouvre to get the sugar. "Goodness," he breathed when he was close enough for only Charles to hear, "you really are my English rose." He moved away, leaving Charles frozen over the counter, staring patiently into the tiles before him as if they could give him some idea as to what he could possibly do in this situation. The entire kitchen was silent. "Don't worry Charles," Erik said, unreasonably loudly from where he was now sat at the circular table with everyone else, "they can't hear your thoughts."

"Can hear your fuckin' bedroom though. _Jesus,_ " came an irritated voice from the doorway. Alex stomped in and dragged a chair screechingly across the tiles to sit down on heavily. The rest of the table gaped at him while Erik smiled triumphantly. "Coffee. I need coffee," he mumbled crossly, oblivious to the atmosphere that had fallen around him.

"Erik, perhaps you could continue doing this," said Charles in a tight voice. "I have to go and...here," he thrust the kettle into Erik's hands and walked out of the room as quickly as he could possibly manage.


End file.
